ice cream on thursdays

I have a friend, a former co-worker, who is older than my mom, who is having some serious health issues, having been diagnosed with  some chronic problems.  She has been asking for months for me to take her to "Charlene's Grave".  Charlene Richard was a little Cajun Girl who lived and died over 50 years ago in a rural community about 45 minutes from us.  She died at age 12 after a short battle with leukemia, and gradually she has developed a reputation as the "L'il Cajun Saint".

So, with school about to start, and time about to become very short, when she suggested that we go "next  week", I googled.  The cemetery where Charlene is buried is adjacent to the church.  The parish has Mass at 6:00 pm on Thursdays, so I told her we would go then.  I figured if we were going to make a road trip of it, we might as well do more than sit in a hot cemetery.  This is Louisiana, and it was July.

We arrived in time for Mass.  I knew that since it was a small, rural community, we would obviously stick out at Mass, but I had hoped to blend in at least a little.  Well, so much for that idea. Including the priest, the musician, and the altar server, there were 7 of us at Mass.  That's the number of completion and perfection in the Bible, though.  Mass was absolutely gorgeous...the musician played and sang her heart out.  The homily felt like it was written just for us (and matched the picture of Abraham and Isaac in the sanctuary).

After Mass, we ventured out to the cemetery.  Charlene's grave is easy to spot, but someone else was praying there, so we meandered around the cemetery for a bit, before stopping to visit with Charlene. Even though it was after 6 in the evening, it was still quite hot, but  the experience was so peaceful. We were alone, and except for nature, there were no sounds.  No vehicles passing on the highway.....just peace.  We paused long enough to write down our petitions and place them in the box on her grave.  We knelt and prayed. Tears may or may not have been shed.

I know that some have reservations about the whole business of asking saints to pray for us, but I believe that if we can ask other broken people in this broken world to pray for us, then surely we should be able to request assistance of someone whom we believe has direct access to the Good Lord.

We made our way back home, - a little more at peace, and a little more hopeful,  but not before stopping at McDonald's for an ice cream sundae.

Fast forwarding to the next Thursday.  It was hotter than hot, but my son and two of his Boy Scout buddies were to meet in a local park for one of the other parents to take their pictures, in anticipation of upcoming Eagle Scout Ceremony.  

A couple of the grandkids were visiting, so I had brought them with me, thinking they would enjoy the park as something different.  They fed the ducks....

...and played on the playground.  But they were tired, and it was hot, and they mostly just wanted to get to their other grandma's house.  

When the photo shoot was done, the boys decided to go eat ice cream (it is summer and it is hot), and after letting the girls play for a little longer, I took them to meet up with their other grandmother. We saw one police unit shortly after leaving the park.  We were nearly broadsided by another that was speeding through a red light.  After I dropped the girls off, I met up with the boys and the photographer dad at the ice cream shop, and we sat for an hour or more, talking and watching as law enforcement vehicles - marked and unmarked - sped by at odd intervals. The 3 boys have known each other since second grade, and all of them are starting college in the fall, and that occupied much of the conversation.  "My mom says there's been a shooting at the Grand," one of them said quietly, reading the text from his phone.  So in the age of instant information, we all turned to our phones...

Yep, sure enough.  But not much information available. Maybe some domestic issue, we assumed.  We visited a while longer before going our separate ways. 

Once we got home, we saw our  hometown on national news. When all the dust settled, three people were dead - people connected only by the fact that they had gone to see Trainwreck on a hot, July night.  The deceased included the shooter - someone from out of state who was "just not right" and two beautiful young ladies, Jillian and Mayci.  Several others were hospitalized.  

But here, we still pray.  Here, we come together to emerge even stronger. Here, we have joy, and nobody from out of town is going to steal our joy on a hot Thursday night.  

meet cancelled

I'm still here.  But I think I've lost my blogging voice.  But then there was yesterday.

My boys are participating in wrestling at their high school.  Yesterday was to be their last meet before the State Meet in about 10 days.  On days that they have a meet after school, they stay at school to practice and go in the short bus to the school hosting.  On those days, I don't have to pick them up at school, so I look forward to a little extra time to wrap up loose ends at school.

Yesterday, though, I got a phone call from one of the other wrestling parents as my school day was ending.  One of the coaches had collapsed during practice, she said.  The paramedics were there and working on him.  It didn't sound good, so I assured here I would be there just as soon as I got things squared away at school.  I was on my way when she called to tell me that he had passed away.

I had gotten a single text from one of my sons:  "Meet cancelled.  Come get us."

When I arrived at their school, the ambulance was still there.  There were dozens of kids milling around on the sidewalk outside the gym.  My two and one of their teammates came to my vehicle, wordlessly opened the doors and dissolved into tears.  Three teenage boys sobbing is not pretty.  Who do you hug first?  I parked in the parking lot, and the mom of my extra child showed up shortly.

Death can be so sudden.  This man was my age.  Graduated the same year as me.  Was in decent enough shape.  Had a daughter in one of my sons' classes.  "Hug with two arms," was the advice that one of my co-workers passed along from a funeral that she had been to the day before.

We headed home.  "Church or home?" I asked.  "Church," one said.  So we stopped off at the church by my school and in the rainy evening darkness we knelt and prayed.  I know I prayed for wisdom to know what to tell them and how to comfort them, as well as praying for this man and his family.

One minute he had been wrestling with a group of kids.  The next minute, he was unconscious.  The kids were present until the ambulance arrived.  I've not seen someone dying, but my children have. "Coach (the other one) was crying," they said.

Lord, give peace and comfort all those whose lives were touched by Coach Greg - his family, his friends, the youth that he gave his time to.

gratitude, with a little grumbling

First of all - Happy Mother's Day to all mothers and those who are like mothers!  Sometimes I really think these holidays are over-rated.  And I have gradually come to realize that I have married into a family - an entire family - of holiday-ruiners!  Do you know the type?  Perhaps it comes with  high expectations, and then when those expecations don't come to pass, there is a holiday melt-down.  Or maybe it is just too much stress to be with each other.  There is always someone that has to have drama on a holiday!  Today was brother-in-law's turn.  But that is not worth giving much attention to. 

What I would want to remember is my sweet son, lighting the charcoal in the bar-b-q pit and cooking me a delicious steak.  Love you, B!  And the other Sweet Child 'o Mine...A.  I dropped him off at a party on Saturday afternoon.  He left his phone in my car, so I got out to give it to him after he had already joined his group of friends.  He gave me a hug and told me he loved me...in front of other people. 

I'm not sure exactly what the red flower is.  I've been pulling the vines...thinking they are weeds, but they don't pull very easily. The roots don't come out.  Kind of like my marriage in some ways.  Almost not sure where the weeds are.  I am trying to discern what to do in the way of counseling.  I really would like a Catholic viewpoint - at least to start.  Since it is my "fanatical" participation in my faith that is the focal point right now.  A couple of emails to the diocesean Office of Family Life netted me 4 pages of names and phone numbers and prices.  There is one that I am drawn to, but at $165/hour.... On the other hand, my employer offers an Employee Assistance Program, which is no cost. 

There seems much to pray for these days.  My pastor's elderly mother has been in ICU in critical condition for the past several days.  Complications from elbow surgery, I think.  His update on Friday at Mass was that she was "continuing to sink lower and lower".  Today I got a call from a good friend who moved away several years ago.  I thought it was to wish me Happy Mother's Day, but it was to let me know that she is in her hometown....a couple of hours from here because her mother passed away last week.  The wife of an older couple that I have gotten to be friends with at church - my pew buddies - had surgery in February.  Complications - plural.  A stroke.  Her vision was affected.  It had begun to improve, but is now regressing.

Things are winding down at school.  I have 10 days left.  One of which will be a field trip, and another half of which I am going to take off to visit with my friend.  Much paperwork left to do, and trophies to order for Honor's Night...but I'll get it done.  And bread to order for our po-boy sale next weekend.  At least the Super Moon is over with....

 
My boys and I were scheduled to serve at Mass today....the late one that we never go to.  Our pastor was not there....he has had a tough week with his Mom.  The person who was supposed to read was not there, either.  Lectoring duties fell to me.  I've had thoughts of volunteering for that ministry at various times, but have never taken the big leap. Especially after I was asked to be an Extraordinary Minister for Communion.  I was a little nervous, and I know you could hear it in my voice, but I made it.  I got a text this evening from our music director giving me a pat on the back and hoping that it would be a recurring thing. 

When all was said and done this evening, I went to the little chapel by my house and spent a wonderful hour with Jesus.  I could have easily stayed for another.  While there is much to pray for, there is also much to be thankful for....  This picutre is a few weeks late, but my Granddad celebrated another journey around the sun.  With daily assistance from my parents, he still lives fairly independently. 

Have a great week, y'all!

walking with Jesus

At least that's how I was kind of thinking about it, as we entered Holy Week and it just seemed to be one thing after another. 

As I mentioned in the last post, my sister-in-law's mother-in-law passed away quite unexpectedly Saturday night in her sleep.  The funeral was today.

Monday morning, my SIL had met me for Mass, and we had coffee afterwards.  She was awaiting the results of a biopsy she had had the week before.  That evening, she called to tell me that she did, indeed, have breast cancer.  She is the third person that I have known to be diagnosed with cancer since Christmas!  Fortunately the prognosis for all of them is good!  But it is a lot to lose a loved one and find out you have cancer - all within about 36 hours.

Monday during the day, my dear husband called to tell me that he didn't think he was going to be able to get medical clearance to be cleared to drive for his job.  We just bought a new, used truck last week.  He would certainly drive me over the edge if he could not work.  Not to mention the financial short-fall.  Today things look better.  I will continue to pray! 

I attended the annual Tenebrae Service at my church tonight.  It is always nice, but kind of like the proverbial box of chocolates...ya never know quite what you're going to get.  Over the years, there have been some threads that run through all of them... the most obvious is the candles:

I took one lone picture this year.... I describe the Tenebrae Service as "part prayer....part music...part performance."  The Tenebrae comes from an old version of the Liturgy of the Hours, and tonight there were 3 Psalms prayed in parts, as they do in religious communities.  After each psalm, one of the candles was extinguished.  Then there were some chants from Lamentations, and after each, a candle was extinguished.  There was also a musical "response" for each of the chants from our choir.   A reading from Job, and then a homily from our pastor. 

He commented on Lamentations which tell the story of a sinful Israel in much-deserved exile.  He mentioned that instead of crying "Oh Jerusalem return to the Lord your God", we could very well cry "Oh America, return....."  But in order to personalize this, we must realize that we all contribute to the absence of God in our country.  And on another tack, he reiterated that we don't celebrate "history" during the next few days, but "mystery." 

After "Prayers of the Faithful", the lights in the church were turned out, and a loud sound was heard (cymbals).  The Easter Candle was removed, but then returned, and we all departed in silence and darkness.

Tomorrow I am very much looking forward to attending the Chrism Mass at the Cathedral with a friend in the morning, and the Mass of the Lord's Supper at our parish in the evening.  Kind of like a Catholic Double-Header.  

another catch-all

I am still here...yes, I am.  I have not given up blogging for Lent.  Things have just been *that* busy.

Evening is my blogging time, and there has been something every evening this week.  Monday evening, I skipped out on the Rosary group I belong to because I had a birthday cake to bake.  I also received a message on Facebook from one of my former students.  I'm friends with a few of the "kids" I taught way back when.  K and C were two girls in my class about 15 years ago, and both have "friended" me on Facebook.  C was in a wheelchair and K had a mild case of cerebral palsy.  C has visited me a couple of times over the years, and in recent months, she has been one of my most faithful Words With Friends opponents.  K is married, has 2 kids with a third due to enter the world in the next few weeks.

The message was from K with a short message and her phone number.  C had been hospitalized for an infection that resulted from a pressure sore.  It had gone all the way to the bone, and even though they had done surgery to remove some of it, it was still an issue.  After the surgery she had gone into cardiac arrest.  Organ damage ensued and things took a turn for the worse from there.  She passed away the next evening.  She was 29.  It is hard to feel sad, because she is almost certainly in a better place.  But once again, I find myself stunned by the suddenness of death.  A week ago, she was posting on FB.  We have 2 unfinished Words With Friends games.  

While one family was dealing with death, we were celebrating life.  On Tuesday, my baby turned 15.  I had in mind to do one of those wonderful birthday posts with pictures to show how much things change and how much they remain the same.  But that has yet to happen.  We celebrated with pizza - a rare meal out - and cake.

Wednesday night was a Bible Study night, and Thursday night was a track meet.  I need some downtime.   A trip to the chapel is on the agenda for the near future.  A trip where I can spend an hour or more.  The weekend has a lot of things packed into it, too.  Things for Boy Scouts.  Paperwork for school. 

Lent is going relatively well, I think. I need some time to really assess and re-orient, but things are going well with my fifth graders.  One was sent to an alternative placement last week for the remainder of the year, and that has made a huge difference as we are able to focus on the others now.  And I am doing my best to smile and provide for their needs. 

Hopefully our weekend will provide a chance to literally and figuratively catch my breath!

for sarah

I didn't know her name until today. But I knew her face well. One of the sadder facts of life that we see people on a nearly daily basis, but don't know their names.

Sarah and her husband are regular attendees at daily Mass at my parish. I park by them...because not only do we have assigned seats inside the church, we appear to have our favorite parking spots as well. Our church's parking lot is bordered by apartments for the elderly and disabled, and Sarah and her husband regularly gave one of the blind residents a ride home after Mass. I would see them shuffling out...Sarah in the lead, careful not to go too fast, the lady with her hand on Sarah's shoulder. When they got to the door, Sarah would step through and then stop while the lady dipped her hand on the holy water and crossed herself. Then, hand on shoulder, they continued their slow shuffle to the SUV, where they helped the lady situate herself for the drive across the parking lot to the apartments.

This was all I was witness to. Perhaps they picked her up before Mass as well. Perhaps they assisted her in other ways. Since we parked near each other, we often exchanged small talk on the way to our cars. ( though apparently names weren't really necessary). She would ask me how many days of school remained. That kind of thing.

They were at Mass on Friday. I don't remember if we spoke or not. Maybe we waved. But that was Sarah's last Mass [here on earth]. The good Lord called her home later that day. She was 67...about my mom's age.. Though we know intellectually that we have no way of knowing the day or the hour, I think we always kind of figure we'll have some warning...some decline in health, a hint that we should wrap up loose ends with our lives here. But, obviously that is not always the case.

We all get these wake-up calls not to take life for granted. Let us hear and answer them. And let us say a prayer for Sarah, her husband, 3 children, and 10 grandchildren, siblings, etc. Rest in peace, Sarah. May you arrive safely in your new home, as you always took care to make sure that your sister in Christ arrived safely at her home!

no words

What a week it has been!  I'm glad it started off with a holiday.

On Tuesday, the daughter of one of the sweetest people ever to work at my sons' school passed away.  Pneumonia.  A was 28, but had some physical disabilities, still lived at home, and was her parents' only child.  She must have inherited her mom's sweet and gentle spirit.  The wake was Friday night, and I went to the funeral home for the Rosary.  I watched the video of pictures they had playing in the back.  So many pictures.  All with smiles.  The second-to-last picture was A making a snow angel.  And the last picture was the snow angel itself.  There were no words to say to her parents.  All I could do was offer a hug.  Or two.  Nothing can make it better.

I wish I could have gone to the funeral today.  I heard that the good Monsignor did find the right words.  He usually does.  Parents should not have to bury their children.  That is one of the most cruel things in this broken world that we live in.

On Wednesday, we started a Bible Study at church.  I am so psyched about this.  It is an 11 week study of the Book of James.  James takes up 5 pages in my Bible.  It is packed with "Pearls of Wisdom", it appears.  The first one, "Count it all as joy, my brethren, for the testing of our faith produces steadfastness."  Or something along those lines.   That has partly contributed to the lack of blog posts.  I've been busy with Bible Study homework.  I have done a few of these before and I know two things - (1) If you do the homework, you get SO much more out of the course and (2) You cannot wait until the last minute to do the homework.  Some of it takes prayer and reflection.

There was also a beautiful full moon on Wednesday.  I attempted to take pictures of it.  Varied results.

Thursday, I showed up at school to see an ambulance in the front.  Certainly not an every day occurrence, but sadly, not that uncommon, either.  I said a silent prayer, but did not feel the need to jump out of my car, run in, and see what was going on.  Turns out it was our principal.  He was out the previous week with "health issues" and apparently is still having "health issues".  He had laid (layed/lain?) down on the floor of his office and couldn't get back up.  He is my age - 40 something.  But stress can kill ya, and his job is full of stress.  So not worth it.  The people that are heaping the stress on, will have you replaced inside of a week, and probably won't even bother to show up to your funeral.  He is nice guy, a genuine good person.

Some of us had a chuckle over the note that was sent home to the students.  "Mr. X was  hospitalized today, but we don't feel that it is anything serious."  Really?  So why was he hospitalized?  Was he faking?  Or maybe I'm being nit-picky.  I hope that it  isn't serious.  I hope that he is back at work very soon, because he is the anchor of sanity, the only check on some who want things run their way.  But he needs to take care of himself first. 

And that concludes this week of ups and downs.  I hope that you didn't get too hopeful when you read the title and think that it meant that this post would have no words!

darkness

There just seems to be a darkness throughout the school.  I suppose that part of why I am there is to be light.

I wanted - needed - to go to Mass Tuesday.  But it didn't happen.  There was a Saints game on Monday Night Football, and getting the younger teen out of bed nearly required an act of God.  So I ended up at a Math department meeting instead.  I figured maybe that was where God thought I needed to be.

In the context of talking about our student who was murdered over the weekend, one of my students told me on Monday that she thinks about hanging herself sometimes.  But then in the next breath, she said/asked, "But I'd go to hell if I did that, right?"  There is such a cheapness to life in our society.  We kill little babies before they take their first breath.  I think sometimes we contribute to the cheapness of life when we don't recognize all life - even aggravating teens - for the gift that it is.

On the way home, I saw the most perfect rainbow.  I needed to see this.  It was a whole rainbow.  You often see a part of a rainbow, but this was the whole thing - from one pot of gold to the other.  I think it was God reminding me that He is there with us in the storm, and that everything will be OK.

My sister-in-law hosts a rosary group on some Tuesday nights.  I always ask my boys if they want to come.  Sometimes they do; sometimes not.  Last night they both came and prayed the Rosary of the Seven Sorrows along with the group of women.  That was a blessing.  The conversation on the way home was priceless.  The younger - feeling safe in the darkness of the back seat -  saying how "good" he felt about praying, and how he was trying to be better; to get his life together.  We talked about how God doesn't call us to be good; He calls us to be holy.  It was a great conversation.  Wish I could remember it all. It was good for my mom-ears to hear.  Light in the darkness.

senseless

Just senseless.

While I was out in the woods with my 13 and 15 year olds this weekend, one of our 8th graders from school - a 14 year old - was murdered.  Stabbed in the chest by another teen and left lying in the street after dark.  For a watch. 

There just really aren't any words.

We flew the flag at half-mast.

Possibly sadder - we found out this morning that another of our students had attempted suicide over the weekend.  Due in part to bullying.  But they can't tell us who it was or what grade he or she was in. 

And that was the incentive I needed to email my older child's guidance counselor to let her know about a child that I hear about on nearly a daily basis.  Someone he just wants to beat up so he'll leave him alone.

Today in our public school, God was mentioned.  How we don't understand His plans.  How we never know when it is "our time" and so we need to be "right".

life is changed....not ended

I went today to the funeral of my best friend's mom.  It is a comfort to know that death is not the end of our lives, just a change.  The liturgy was beautiful.  There is the reminder at the beginning of our baptism.  The Easter candle is lit, the coffin is sprinkled with Holy Water, and the funeral pall, symbolic of the white garment at baptism is placed over the casket. Things come full circle.  The readings were perfect, and the music was beautiful.  There was one song that was sung during the blessing with incense, that I would love to have at my own funeral.  Something about "May the Angels Lead You into Paradise".  I don't recall hearing it before...

As I sat in the church, I wondered if now friend's mom is present with us at Mass - in the company of the angels and saints who are at every Mass.  There is every reason to hope, and she is almost certainly in a better place, freed from the limitations that were part of life here.

Plans to visit with my friend after the funeral were changed when she called to tell me that she had an awful virus and to stay away!  I'm glad that I have planned to take off on Monday for a real chance to visit.  I am always reluctant to "use my days", but this is one of those things that fits the "10 year rule".  Will it matter in 10 years if we visited?  Possibly, because sometimes there are years between our visits and they are grace-filled times.  While I would like to make a trip to the monastery yearly, one never knows what the future holds.  Will it matter in 10 years if I was at work on 1.11.10?  Probably NOT!

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of Cody's death.  If ever anyone got a headstart on their "purgatory time" while they were still on earth, it was this child.  I still think of him often.  I can still see that twinkle in his eye. 

And tomorrow is the first anniversary of my neighbor's death.  For over 40 years, our families lived next door to each other.  I don't think they make neighbors like that anymore.  A wonderful, kind, gentle person who never had anything bad to say about anyone.

When I got back to town, I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up a prescription.  While I was there, I ran into Ms. Clara and her granddaughter.

May they all rest in peace, and may perpetual light shine upon them!

neither the time,nor the hour

I clicked on the obituaries this morning to see that Ms. Clara's daughter had died.  Ms. Clara was our faithful sitter when the kids were small.  Her daughter was 50 and her death was unexpected.  She was at work on Friday.  Her husband died years ago, and she leaves behind a son who is in the Navy and a daughter who is still in high school.  So sad.  At the funeral home, though, it was good to reconnect with people we hadn't seen in a while - parents and kids who were also at Ms. Clara's when we were.  Clara said to tell the boys that she is watching them when they altar serve!